I'm about to lose my mind (you've been gone for so long)
by KadiCriss
Summary: He froze. Again, Stiles couldn't do anything but freeze and stare as he watched another woman he loved fight for her life. Rated T.


**A/N:** Well, hello people who clicked on this link and are currently reading the crazy product of my imagination - welcome to _Crazy Land_ , by the way - I love you already! This takes place during the fourth episode of the fifth season. You know, when Stiles almost had a panic attack because Lydia was bleeding on the floor and _freakin_ ' Theo came to save the day ?! ( **love** Cody, **h** ate Theo)

This fanfiction's title is from Eminem's song, ** _I need a doctor._**

 **DISCLAIMER - Teen Wolf is owned by Jeff Davis and MTV.  
**

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\- _I'm about to lose my mind (you've been gone for so long) -_ by **KadiCriss**

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 _\- "If you die, I will literally go out of my freaking mind." -  
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\- Stiles to Lydia, 2x12 -

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Stiles barged into the police station, closely followed by Scott, Theo and Deaton. He was barely aware of his father's presence, letting out a sigh of relief when Scott ran to him, checking for any injuries. Stiles was completely oblivious to the Sheriff's concerned gaze. All he could noticed was the red, crimson color staining the usual grey precinct's floor. Stiles felt bile rising up his throat as the metallic smell forced itself into his nostrils. He could almost taste it. Swallowing, he followed the trail, his fists clenching and unclenching. And when he found where the tail ended, Stiles wished he hadn't followed it.

Lydia Martin - the gorgeous, smart banshee of Beacon Hills - was laying at his feet, her usually pale skin was a sickly, grey color, the sweat make her strawberry blonde hair stuck to her forehead and blood was oozing from her side. Kira was kneeling next to her, both of her hands pressing onto the wound, in vain. At least, Stiles thought it was Kira. His vision had became blurry. And he was pretty sure he had stopped breathing too. The boy with whisky-colored eyes was frozen in place as he stared at the sight in front of him, his nails digging into his hands as he clenched his fists harder. He barely adknowledged Theo as he rushed past him, pushing him to the side. He didn't even have the time to take a step, the other boy had already taken off his belt and was making a tourniquet. Stiles was too tired to try to be sarcastic and witty, so he chose to not say a thing for once. It took all his energy to breath and stay in the present, even though the world seemed to disappear around him. All sounds, voices echoed and were disorted.

"Stiles." Scott called, now standing behind him.

He ignored him, was completely oblivious and kept staring at the gruesome sight in front of him. His eyelids suddenly feeling heavy, Stiles _blinked_. And in the second following that small, insignificant gesture, everything changed. His surroundings changed, the noises and voices were louder. If Stiles was freaking out earlier, then he was going to have a heart attack. Because the teenager wasn't standing in the police station anymore, nor was he surrounded by his pack any longer. No, Stiles was standing in front of an hospital room, surrounded by nurses and doctors and annoying constantly beeping machines. That wasn't the worst, The worst was that, instead of Lydia bleeding on a dirty floor, Stiles was staring at his sickly, agonizing mother, laying in an hospital bed.

Standing in the doorway, the brown haired man leaned on the door frame, clearing his throat so the lump stuck in it could disappear. Around his mother were numerous doctors and nurses, working quickly and quietly so they could relieve Claudia's pain. And Stiles simply stood there, as he had in front of Lydia, useless and unable to do anything to help. The lanky teenager jumped when he felt a gentle hand grab his shoulder. His heart was beating faster and breathing was painful. As Stiles turned his head, his whisky brown eyes met Melissa McCall's dark gaze. She looked almost ten years younger but it was her. Dark curls escaping her messy bun. Her stetescope wrapped around her neck. A smell of antiseptic and fruits;

"Stiles, honey." Her hand went on his back, rubbing circles as she reassured him, in a soothing voice "it's okay. Your mom's alright You just need to get out of the room for a moment, so the doctors can help get better."

Stiles opened his mouth but no words got out of it. He got nothing. No sarcastic, witty, well-thought retort. Right, brains needed oxygen too.

 _Bummer._

Instead, he turned back his head and brown met blue. As their gazes locked, Stiles felt lile screaming, crying. But he didn't. He just kept staring at her, his body shaking, his palms bloodied by his nails and his vision blurred by tears. Stiles could vaguely hear Melissa ordering someone to call his father in the background. He didn't care, though. Nor did he care about the nurses whom were tryingto push him out of the room. He was too busy staring. Claudia Stilinski looked like he had remembered. Her blue eyes, so bright they looked white, were shining with a strange mix of pain, love, fear and mischief. Stiles thought it was almost like looking in a mirror. The rest of the brown hair he had inherited was hidden under a Batman cap while the rest of her pilosity was gone because of the chemo. Despite the fact that Claudia's skin as almost as white as snow and that Stiles could easily count each of her ribs from where he was standing, the teenager couldn't help but think that she was beautiful. Yes, maybe he was biased because the woman was his mother, maybe the lack of oxygen was really getting to his brain, but she was.

Stiles didn't notice the sneaky tears rolling down his cheeks, too mesmerized by the white, bright smile on his mother's face. She was smiling. At him. Holding out a hand too far for him to reach – no matter how hard Stiles had tried -, Claudia licked her dry lips, then lets out a small chuckle:

"It's fine, baby, I-"

She interrupted herself as a wave of pain shook her body, losing her smile and trading it for a couple of seconds. Stiles tried to get to her, so he could help, sooth her pain just by taking her hand. Like Scott would. But his feet didn't seem to work. His entire body didn't seem to be responding to him. So, he just kept staring, frightened as he watched his mother take a trembling breath.

"Momma's fine, Stiles. I just need a few minutes alone. So, please, can you follow Melissa out and be the big, smart and responsible boy I know you are? As soon as Dad arrives, you can come back in. Okay, honey?"

"You promise?"

The two words startled him, echoing around him. The voice was Stiles' but he hadn't speak. As soon as he was sure that his mother wouldn't diseappear out of thin air, Stiles threw a look behind him. No one was there. From the corner of his eyes, the brown haired teenager could see Claudia swallowing before taking another painful breath. The older woman smiled again, tearful, as she nodded. Again, as his gaze locked with hers, Stiles found himself staring at his reflection. As he also gave a small nod, Stiles saw his mother's held out hand fall to her side. He _blinked._

And was immediately thrown back by the metallic odor of Lydia's blood as he found himself back in the precint. By the small strawberry were now Kira, Theo and Mrs Martin. All four of them were staring at him.

All _ **four**_ of them.

Stiles' whisky-colored eyes met Lydia's emeraud gaze as the latter smiled. She smiled at him, through tears and pain, trying to convey as much comfort as she could, from her laying position of the cold floor. Biting back a new wave of pain, the banshee smiled at him.

"Stiles, I'm fine" she reassured him.

 _Momma's fine, Stiles._

The lanky teenager was vaguely aware of Scott and his father calling his name, of Theo assuring him Lydia was alright, of everyone was staring at him. Stiles was too mesmerized by the bright green of the strawberry blonde's eyes. If he wasn't already struggling to breathe, the only color of her eyes would take his breath away. The teenager turned his head for a second, watching as his father struggled to stay up.

"Find Tracy." Lydia's shuddering voice made Stiles' head turn back violently. Later, he would he didn't get whisplash.

"Stiles, _come on._ " Scott insisted, his voice clearer, louder.

" _ **Go!"**_

The two-letter word managed to broke Stiles' out of his transe. Taking a deep breath, the brown haired man didn't a second as he turned around and wrapped an arm around his father's waist, the latter immediately leaning on his son. Scott wrapped the Sheriff's other arm around his neck, half carrying him as the three of them quickly made their way out of the room, followed by Deaton. And as they began looking for Malia and Tracy, Stiles kept staring in front of him, afraid that if he were to look back, he wouldn't be able to leave with his sanity still intact.


End file.
